I have to admit that I am rather partial to a bit of David Beckham. Yes, I have fully bought into brand Beckham. He seems the devoted family man, supportive husband, athletic, kind, easy on the eye, covered in tattoos and the list goes on. However, I did stop in my tracks last week when I read that David gets physically ill when he is away from his family. My first reaction was to mutter under my breath about how lucky Posh is and if I was married to Beckham not only would I be able to crack a smile every now and again but I would be dancing on the tables too. I’m only joking I think Posh is fabulous and I’m sure she smiles in real life. I then thought what a lovely family man he is until I suddenly realised that there was something very wrong with what David had said. Let’s repeat this he gets

 

physically ill when he is away from his family

 

Yes, that’s right, he gets ill when he is away from his family. No it appears this wasn’t a typo. It shouldn’t have read “I get physically ill when I spend a whole day with them” which is how I sometimes feel. I LOVE my family but a day of being forced to watch Frozen over and over again, which apparently David is very happy to do, will often (nearly) send me teetering over the edge into a great canyon of chocolate.

 

 

But that is when it hit me. David Beckham has Frozen brain. His brain has been turned to mush by the endless watching of Frozen. It happens to the best of us. No wonder he feels physically ill at the thought of leaving his family. Frozen has given him a very skewed perspective of the world. He is all frozened out. He is worried that everytime he leaves them that his boat might get lost at sea like Anna and Elsa’s parents did. So it is down to us to remind David Beckham that there is a lot to be said for getting away from your family every now and again:

 

• You can have a lie-in. You wake up when you are ready, not when your little fingers prise open your eyes whilst shouting in your ears demanding dry cereal at 2 am.

 

• You can go into a coffee shop and actually drink your coffee without having to abandon it because someone has suddenly annouced very loudly in the quiet coffee shop that they need to do a big poo.

 

 

• You can go shopping without having to play hunt the threenager in the clothes racks or without having to reprimand threenager for wiping her nose on all of the designer dresses.

 

 

 

• You can watch a movie that doesn’t have talking penguins, karate chopping pandas or a singing princess.

 

• When you go out you feel oddly light and then you realise it is because you are not carrying around the usual arsenal of spare clothes, books, toys, pebbles, wipes etc.

 

• You can go and eat in a restaurant and order a meal that isn’t beige.

 

• You can actually have a conversation that doesn’t involve the repeating of the word “why” or random questions

 

• You can have a bubble bath on your own without a collection of rubber animals or an audience of small children.

 

• You can wear high heels safe in the knowledge that you are not suddenly going to have to bolt after a threenager trying to perfect her vanishing David Blaine party trick.

 

 

• You can wear your nicest party outfit without fears of yoghurt handprints being left on it.

 

So David whilst I commend you for being such a good family man I hope that these points have unfrozen your brain and you can now see that there is no reason to get physically sick when you have next have to leave your family. I tell you what, next time you go away you have a shandy for me and make the most of the lie-ins and I will carry on singing Frozen for you. If you are ever in doubt just remember that sometimes absence makes the heart grow fonder.*

*Although I have to admit I am not sure if this is case as I haven’t been away in years……But there is always now. What do you say David, where shall we go? 😉

 

 

 

 

It occured to me the other day whilst using my cat like reflexes to catch a falling glass in one hand whilst mopping up spilt juice with the other, that I do indeed have superpowers. I haven’t always had these. No, it appears that producing two offspring has unleashed my inner superhereo. I don’t need to tell you that being a parent is very much like being a superhero. I mean on a daily basis we look like Superman in his civilian clothes, we blend in with the crowd whilst looking like any other person.

However, on the inside is a whole different story;

• x-ray vision. I can see everything. Every toy that has been hidden under the bed, every pair of socks that hasn’t made it to the laundry basket. Every bit of dust and dirt lurking under the sofa. Ok, lets not talk about the Christmas platter of cured meats that youngest found so offensive that she decided to hide under the sofa and that I only found last week, mouldy and nearly walking. My superpowers obviously need fine tuning.
• I don’t feel pain. Labour anyone? Standing on lego barefoot! Also having a threenager that has a fondness for demonstrating her ninja moves (superhero in training) on you means that you have a pretty high tolerance for pain.
• Superlearning powers. I can follow and memorise the instruction booklet for any game, rapido. Also ask me anything about any member of the cbeebies team. I know everything about Mr Tumbles and don’t get me started on Mr Bloom. In Mastermind my specialist subject would be cbeebies presenters.
• Poison Generation. Apparently every healthy meal I try and serve my children is just this, poison.

• The power of persuasion. I can perform Jedi mind tricks on my two. I use my charm to persuade them to tidy-up and switch off the TV. Admittedly this is a superhero power that I need to work on as more often than not it doesn’t work.
• Understanding different languages, in this case threenager speak. I can decipher what threenager is speaking. This is no mean feat. Apparently foof means seatbelt, this did cause much confusion in the early days when everytime we stopped in the car threenager would shout “foof out”.
• Superhero strength. I can carry threenager and all of the shopping from the downstairs garage and up the stairs.
• Superhero invention skill. I can invent a game of changing complexity in the blink of eye, rapidly adapting it to the needs of the audience.
• Empathy. I absorb the moods of my children. I know their moods better then they do.
• Superhearing. I can hear threenager trying to sneak a packet of crips out of the cupboard from another floor. I can hear the sound of arguing from behind closed doors. I can hear feet tip-toeing when they should be in bed.
• Elasticity. Reaching up to the top shelf in the supermarket to retrieve the last packet of Chocolate Shreddies. Another example of my elasticity is holding one threenager having a tantrum whilst filling in a permission slip for oldest.
• Healing powers. The ability to stop a leg that is apparently going to “fall off right now” and the ability to kiss better a knee that has been knocked.
• Freeze time. This is a power that sometimes I seem to unleash without meaning to, especially when playing the same mind-numbing game with youngest for the twentieth time. I look at the clock thinking at least an hour must of passed to find that in fact no time has passed.
• Prerecognition. I can anticipate things happening before they do. I can see when threenager and oldest are about to fall out and I can tell when a melt down is about to happen in a shop.
• Force field bubble. When threenager is having a tantrum I can deploy a force field bubble round myself for self preservation.
• Spiderwebs. Not literally but like spiderman I can leap and weave through skyscrapers and whole towns of houses made from…Lego.
• Shapeshifting. I can go from Mum to cleaner to writer to wife to friend in the blink of an eye.
• Telekinesis. I can catch a cup full of juice mid-air. Hurl a potty at a toddler about to have an accident and take the last smartie from a child without them even realising.
• Telepathy. I can read the thoughts of my two and know when they are brewing trouble.
• Superspeed. I can clear up our living room rapidly, get youngest dressed in 30 seconds flat and complete the school run before you finish reading this post.
• Invisibility. Being a stay at home Mum often means that I can walk about undetected.
• Superhero calling. Oldest and youngest only have to tip their heads back and call my name and I come flying in.
• I’m like Superman. No I don’t have the power of flight but I do wear big pants. Enough said.

What superhero powers do you have?

Last week Kirsty Allsop was in the news talking about how you shouldn’t be judged for having a c-section. As someone who went through two emergency c-sections this is something that I feel very strongly about. I do believe that there is a real stigma attached to having a c-section and everyday many women are being made to feel like they failed because they didn’t have a “natural” birth.

This was certainly the case for me first time round. I had been in labour for over 48 hours, with just gas and air (because I had bought into the hype of no ‘real’ drugs). They had already tried forceps but this too had failed. So in the very early hours of Monday morning oldest was born via c-section. I had been awake since Friday night and therefore the whole experience seemed very surreal.

I felt completely unprepared for a c-section. I had attended all of the NCT classes and c-sections had only been mentioned very briefly in passing, as in “avoid at all costs”. As I lay on that operating table being sewed back up whilst attempting to breastfeed my baby I didn’t feel the europhia that I had been promised.

Instead I felt that I had already failed my first born.

Looking back I now realise that this was crazy. I should have been happy as we had been fearing the worst. On Sunday afternoon we had been told to prepare for our baby to be born “abnormal”. Yes those exact words were used. I should know as I remember sitting there in shock as the words screamed around my head. After delivering those words they had simply drawn the curtain around us, leaving us on our own as my husband sobbed. However, we were one of the lucky ones and against all the odds she was born completely healthy.

Our first birth was not what we had prepared for. The NCT classes had painted a lovely picture of twinkly candles, water births and soothing music. Don’t get me wrong I realise that there are some people who do manage to achieve this. For us it involved projectile vomiting- a lot, not understanding what was going on and being hooked up to machines whilst feeling scared and abandoned.

Despite vowing never to go through it again I found myself in the same hospital 3 years later doing just that. I had been told that I would be able to give birth naturally and that I was not to worry because what happened last time was a one off. I was worried about how big my bump was but they reassured me telling me it was nothing to worry about. This time I can’t fault the care that we received during labour. We had the best care in the form of two midwives who didn’t leave my side and who encouraged me the whole way through. I was closer to my dream vision of the birth. Yet it still wasn’t meant to be. I remember being wheeled of to surgery again with a sense of deja vu. It was when I got to surgery that my waters properly broke and then they realised that I had excess water, otherwise known as polyhydramnios. Again we were told to prepare ourselves as this can lead to complications. But again we were one of the lucky ones.

I am grateful for the c-sections because who knows where my daughters and I would be without them. I do agree with Kirsty Allsop that there is a lot of negativity surrounding c-sections and that this is pushed on us by some parenting groups, newspapers and social media. I was terrified first time round about having a c-section as I hadn’t been prepared for it and I had only been told the negative things that surround a c-section. However, second time round despite my intial dissapointment I felt empowered. I had tried to give birth but I hadn’t been able to and that wasn’t my fault. Second time round the labour and susequent c-section was a positive experience. We felt supported by the fantastic midwives and consultant who listened to me and clearly explained what was happening. Also this time I knew what was coming- the safe arrival of my baby and that was the most important thing of all.

We need to stop spreading these horror stories about c-sections and we need to be properly educate women on what a c-section is and what it involves. We need to be telling them that it is ok to have a c-section. Most importantly we need to remember that c-sections save lives. But key to helping women realise that a c-section isn’t a sign of failure is the support she receives in hospital and in the community. We need to take away the stigma of c-section, the press needs to throw away the cheap moniker “too posh to push” and parenting groups need to talk parents through all the options during childbirth.

Last week I wrote a blog post explaining why I don’t like the label ‘Princess’. Within ten minutes of that post going live I had been contacted on twitter by a stranger who called me a

“hypersensitive idiot”.

Ok, I thought that is your opinion and we live in a world where we can all freely express our opinions. However, most of us choose to do it in a respectful manner. On futher investigation of his twitter page it soon became clear that I had got off very lightly as he basically spent his days spouting hateful diatribe towards anyone who said anything vaguely feminist. It got me thinking about how today in the western world we live in a society where on the surface we seemingly promote equality, tolerance and unity. Women are now, more than ever, closing the gap in pay.

There are more women in top paying jobs than ever before. More women in the house of commons, more women changing the world. Yet is this unity really our reality? Not if you looked down a toy aisle. If you did you could be forgiven for thinking that you were in the 1950s.

Despite living in a progressive society we continue to have toys that push gender stereotypes that are both regressive and damaging.

What kind of message are we sending to our children about what their future role and occupation in society will be? According to our toy shops all women are tied to the kitchen sink, making themselves beautiful whilst having babies. On the other hand men get to build things, blow-up things and drive fast cars. Even toys that once were gender neutral are no longer. Take Lego for example with its pink range for the girls which consists of building pretty pink shopping malls. No doubt twitter man would tell me that I am being hypersensitve, perhaps I am, does it really matter?

Well, I think that it matters a great deal. I believe that children should be allowed to have access to a wide range of toys and play experiences. Research has shown that play with what would be classed as “masculine” toys helps with large motor development and spatial skills whilst your stereotypical “feminine” toys helps with fine motor development, language development and social skills. So limiting children to gender specific toys could limit their overall development leading to gender disaprities. This in turn leads to lack of self-confidence.

We like to think we live in a society that is united but our shops prove that this is not the case and it isn’t just toys that are gender specific. We see it practically everywhere. With toothbrushes for the girls in bubblegum pink and covered in hearts, to books that are clearly marketed for boys and books for girls. But perhaps the one that infruriates me the most is clothes. The most labelled of them all after toys. Whilst boys clothes are predomiantly blue with slogans like cheeky monkey, girls are bright pink covered with sequins and slogans like princess. These gender distinctions do have an impact on our children. My oldest won’t wear trousers to school as she believes that is for boys and worries about what the other girls will say. She is 6 years old and despite me telling her that trousers aren’t just for boys and even though she finds her tights infuriating she refuses to wear trousers for fear that she will be called a boy. She is doing it for self-preservation.

When a boy is presented with a toy that is labelled as being a girls he won’t play with it and the same for girls. However, if a boy is given the same toy that is now labelled as being for boys he will play with it. This also applies to girls. What this tells us is that labels do matter and that they are limiting. If we want a society that is inclusive and tolerant we need to stop labelling our children. We need to get away from the sea of pink sparkles that signals this is for girls only. My childrens’ Dad (Mr C) is a Structural Engineer. He works in an industry where there is now a huge shortage of women engineers. England has the lowest proportion of women engineers out of the whole of Europe. Gender specific toys has sent that constant message that engineering, construction and science is for boys only. Those gender labels are not only damaging to our children but also to the future of our economy and society.

In our house we are dismantling the gender stereotypes and we are fighting back against the gender specific labels because we don’t want our daughters growing up in a segregated society.

I am living with a threenager. This is no joke. My threenager doesn’t do jokes, in fact jokes just make her angry. I spend my days anticpating anything that could cause her upset. I spend my days tiptoeing around her for fear that the slightest thing might cause her to explode. Some days this works, lots of days it doesn’t. What works one day won’t work the next day. You can’t fool the threenager.

Classic behaviours of a threenager;

• The threenager has high standards. She expects her every meal to be of michelin starred standard in that you will cater to her every whim. Those doughballs she loved yesterday are disgusting today. Yesterday she insisted on her cucumber being cut into sticks but today how dare you cut them into sticks, even though that is what she demanded asked for 5 minutes ago. And how dare you put milk on her cereal, who actually has milk on their cereal? Threenager likes to eat her cereal dry at all times of the day. Yes, it is perfectly acceptable for threenager to wake up in the middle of the night for a bowl of dry cereal.

• The threenager expects her sister to be her breakfast companion, always. It simply is not acceptable that sister might be trying to get ready for school. No, sister must be having breakfast with threenager so that they can discuss pressing current affairs like if you had to have a pet would it be Jess the Cat from Postman Pat or Duggee the Dog. Sister is too afraid to answer for fear she might say the wrong animal and enrage the threenager.
• The threenager likes to choose her own clothes. The threenager likes to take an individual approach to her clothes. The threenager will make brave fashion choices. Whilst to the rest of us Winter means wearing a coat this is not the case for threenager. No, threenager likes to prove her independence by wearing t-shirts, coats are for wusses.

• Threenager is invincible. Threenager thinks she can break conventional fashion rules. Threenager will wear her princess dress with welly boots over her jeans and top, for three days straight because, well, she is a threenager. Threenager will wear her sisters flip flops in the rain because why not?

• Threenager is also able to demand numerous dress changes during the day. Because threenager has to look her best at all times, she never knows when company might drop in.
• Threenager is too important to walk on the school run. No, you will carry threenager as well as threenager’s coat (which she is refusing to wear), threenager’s teddybear collection, sister’s bag, sister’s lunchbox, sister’s water bottle, sister’s snack. You are not permitted to put threenager down for a second, even if you think that your arms are going to drop off. No, drop everything else but ALWAYS keep hold of threenager.
• Threenager will not tolerate you going into the classroom with sister. No threenager will not tolerate mixing with 6 year olds, they are old news. Everyone knows it’s about the three year olds.
• Threenager likes to hide all the time at the most inappropiate times. Threenager’s normal choice of hiding place is behind a door which she likes to leap out from behind whilst shouting boo. If this doesn’t cause a near heart attack then threenager will not be satisfied. Threenager also hates shopping and likes to demonstrate this by hiding in the shop and again scaring Mummy.

• Threenager is so important that she refers to herself in the third person - “no threenager would not like to go to sleep” and “threenager would like a biscuit now”. Oh and a personal favourite of threenager is “threenager is very disappointed with Mummy” this is usually after I have refused trip to cafe (see below) or another biscuit or the umpteenth bowl of cereal.
• Threenager is a lady that lunches in every single food establishment that you go past, regardless of when she last ate. Threenager is never full-up.

• Threenager has very clear expectations in that you will do exactly what she demands, straight away.
• Threenager does not tidy up, no threenager finds tidying away “boring”.
• Threenager believes that everything is “mine” this includes Daddy’s phone, sister’s bed (especially when sister is trying to sleep) and Mummy’s computer.
• Threenager is entitled to express her opinions very loudly whilst lying on her back, normally in the chocolate aisle of Waitrose or in the middle of a very busy street.

The threenager is a force to be reckoned with but threenager is also still my lovely daughter who can normally be brought out of a threenager attack by playing music and dancing. Another cure that sometimes works would make David Cameron proud, (don’t let this deter you) is the hug a hoody but instead of hugging a hoody i’m hugging my threenager.

But on the days that nothing works you can find me at the bottom of a glass of wine. Cheers!

Do you recognise any of the classic threenager signs? Do you have a threenager in your house?

Today is Groundhog Day which seems fitting as today has started like most of January did; with heavy rain on the school run, running late and arguments over welly boots. Granted I don’t have a huge squirrel tormenting me but let’s face it parenting can feel a lot like Groundhog Day. We find ourselves repeating the same cycle everyday; hunting for homework, the stressful school run, toddler tantrums etc.

It can be infuriating at times and as a result we can find ourselves moaning.

But if we are not careful we could find ourselves trapped in this cycle of moaning as portrayed by Bill Murray in the movie Groundhog Day.

Like the movie we have to learn to break free from the moaning and learn to live in the now. This is something that Cuddle Fairy passionately believes in because like Becky says it’s about changing your mindset. Easier said than done, but it is about making the small steps first. If you read Becky’s blog and look at her motivational quotes you can’t help but feel more positive.

So what are the other ways of breaking free from GroundHog Day?

• Do something for you! Yep, being a Mum or Dad means that we have to spend most of our time fulfilling the needs of our little ones but this doesn’t mean that we should forget about ourselves and our needs. Set yourself some goals, what do you want to achieve this year? Just remember to start small. Perhaps best to leave the dream of entering The Voice until after you have learnt to sing. If you start to too big with your goals you may find it more demotivating. So for me writing this blog was one of my goals. But watch this space for The Voice….

• Stop. If your toddler is having another meltdown over the fact that she is not allowed to stick cheerios up her nose then take a few moments. Remove the cheerios and escape to the toilet for a minute. Or watch that cute Youtube video of the cat saying “hello” or if the thought of a talking cat freaks you out then dance very badly to whatever music is on the radio.

• Do something different. We get stuck in the cycle but we can all break it with the smallest of actions. Perhaps a random act of kindness, saying hello to a stranger or writing a card to one of your oldest friends.

• Accept that your toddler is probably going to have a tantrum and that oldest is probably going to come home from school grumpy and tired. Instead think about what we can change about how we deal with the situation.
• Stop rushing. I’m always dashing about, running to get to school on time, running between clubs. We need to take a breath and slow down. We need to make a point of enjoying the now.
• Avoid negative people. We all know those people, the ones that like to drag you into their latest drama. Perhaps avoid them for the day or make it a mission to turn all their negatives into a positive. Also make a point at smiling at the grumpy neighbour. Smiles are infectious!

I think that the key to escaping that Groundhog Day feeling is us. We all have the power to break free from the loop but it is easier said than done, it will take perseverance. This is why we have to take a big breath and tackle one day at a time whilst remembering to be kind. Let’s share the love because

we might not have a large squirrel stalking us but we too need to learn that we are in charge of our own story.

How do you break free from Groundhog Day?

I have two beautiful daughters who have long blond hair. As a result of this they are labelled, frequently. They are called ‘Princess’ all the time. Especially youngest who is probably called princess at least ten times a week. Granted this might be because sometimes she chooses to wear a pink princess dress but she certainly doesn’t do this because she wants to be a princess, she just likes dressing up. She also likes to dress up as a pirate too but she doesn’t get called pirate.

I guess for me I see the term princess as offensive and sexist because really what is a princess? If we look beyond the lovely clothes, the tiaras what is there actually there? Nothing. In my eyes the term princess represents inequality, it is a reminder of the very patriarchal society that we still live in. My daughters at the very tender ages of three and six are already defined by their genders. By being a princess they are expected to be passive and look pretty.

Yes, my two might be pretty but I can proudly say that they are not passive.

In fact oldest was asked in a shop once, ” what do you want to be when you are older? A Princess?” She replied with an outraged “No, I do not, I want to be a wolf” at which point she then started to howl for good measure. Youngest whilst at her music class, wearing a tiara was instructed to fly like a “fairy” while the boys were flying like Spiderman or Batman. Youngest not happy at the suggestion shouted “no, I’m going to fly like Batman” and so we had a tiara wearing Batman happily flying at speed round the room. We were once in a shoe shop and youngest had chosen a lovely pair of blue shoes with planes on them. I was aghast when the shop assistant told her that she couldn’t have them because they were boy’s shoes. If that is what youngest wants to wear then that is what she shall wear but the damage was done. Oldest on hearing that backed the shop assistant up by saying “yes, you should be trying on these pretty pink trainers”. Oldest was now gender stereotyping too. I worry about my two daughters becoming brainwashed by societies norms. Labels are very damaging and we need to think carefully about the words we use when around impressionable young minds.

I realise that I am the one with the issue with the term princess. That when my daughters are called princess it is because that person sees it as a positive term of endearment. They say it because they are pretty. But actually I don’t want my girls to grow up in a world where they are purely judged on their looks. I want them to grow up in a world where they can believe that they can achieve anything. A princess as a role model doesn’t inspire that belief. Look at Kate Middleton. Ok, technically I realise that she is a Duchess but we and the rest of the world regard her as Princess. She has done so much good work but when does she make the headlines? When she has changed her hairstyle. Her cutting a few inches of her hair is considered more newsworthy than any of the actual work she does. The impression we get from the press is that her function in life is to look pretty and to produce babies.

My girls will be growing up in a society where there are still gender stereotypes deeply embedded so I don’t want to add to that by labelling them Princess. So whilst I am happy for them to play dress up in princess clothes I won’t be buying them clothes with the label princess on. I want them to break free from labels, I won’t be putting them in a box. I want them to believe that they can achieve anything they put their minds to. I instill in my daughters the belief that they can be independent and that they can be a leader. As a result my oldest daughter is happy to play dinosaurs as well as playing babies. She is happy to play with the girls as well as the boys. Where as youngest likes to dress up as a princess as well as Spiderman, she loves her cars but also her teddies and she is happy to play tea parties but also likes leaping off the settee whilst karate chopping everything in sight. I want my daughters to live their lives free from gender based prejudices. I want them to grow up in a society where they are viewed as an equal.

I want them to realise that they hold the key to their future and that they should be fearless in their pursuit of it.

 

 

Yesterday it came out in the press that a Headteacher had written to parents asking them to stop wearing pyjamas on the school run. If i’m honest my first reaction was to be a bit jealous. They have Mums that wear pjs on the school run?! Oh how glorious that must be. You see my school run is very different. At our school it seems like all of the other Mums are yummy Mummies and they all rock up looking wonderfully immaculate whilst wearing their beautifully ironed clothes and they are wearing actual make-up (not last nights). I on the other hand rock up with a birds nest for hair and mostly sometimes yoghurt stained tops and my mascara might be smudged. This is not because I didn’t take it off properly the night before. Absolutely not *cough*. By the way am I the only one who removes her mascara the night before but then finds that some has magically reappeared under her eyes the next morning? Yes, I’m more your slummy Mummy. The shame.

So I would quite like it if other parents wore pjs if only to make me feel less slovenly! However, I can also see the Headteachers point too. It is about the negative associations with wearing what should be your bed wear out of the house, it doesn’t create the best impression. Don’t get me wrong I love a good pj day but I would never wear my pjs out of the house.

But then again should this not be our choice to make? As adults should we not be free to decide what we want to wear on the school run? What I don’t like about the letter is that apparently it calls it a

“pretty poor indictment of the parenting skills of some of our families”

Now that I have an issue with. I don’t agree with the sweeping inference that is being made here. Does wearing pjs really make you a bad parent. Does the clothes we wear really reflect how good we are as a parent?

I mean if I wore a tracksuit does this make me a Mum that isn’t as good as the Mum who is wearing a suit? What do jeans say about me? I live in jeans.

Oh no now I feel like I have stumbled into a whole minefield. As well as getting my children ready for school, feeding them, washing them, brushing their teeth, making the packed lunch I now need to think about what I wear because it clearly is telling the whole world what I am like as a parent. So perhaps I need to go and invest in a variety of suits for the school run, so that I can create an impression of being a very busy and important person and therefore fantastic parent. Perhaps power dressing is the way forward for school runs.

Also will I be judged for what my toddler wears? This morning it was a princess dress over her jeans and top and finished with wellies. What does this say about me as a parent?

I do agree with the Headteacher to a certain degree but I do think that how she handled it could have been better. Perhaps a quiet word with some of the parents asking them if they would mind not wearing their pjs on the school run but I don’t think it was her place to tell them. The Headteacher is there to run the school and to ensure that the children are getting a good education so i’m not sure how a fews pjs on the school run impacts on this. But like or not we are judged on our appearances and perhaps this is something I need to remember more too.

But the Headteacher might want to realise that a lot of fashion can look like Pjs. In fact the spring fashion look is exactly that. Slinky nightdresses might start occurring on the school run. Now I would like to see what the Headteacher says then!